


Beyond Bleeding Edge

by Sharcade



Series: Bleeding Edge [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Fear, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recovery, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-21 09:51:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14913147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharcade/pseuds/Sharcade
Summary: Different isn't always easy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so happy to see how many people have related to my story and my characters. Thank you so much for your incredible feedback! Although Bleeding Edge is over, I still have lots to share, so consider this my thanks for being so kind with your comments. I hope you enjoy the continuation of my story.

"Excuse me Lieutenant. I am ready for work."

Hank stretched, forcing himself to his feet and glancing at Connor. The android had been changing a lot lately.  _A new normal_ , Hank reminded himself. Connor wasn't going to be the same as he was, not for a long time, if ever. As much as he was learning to adjust to a new normal, he didn't think he would ever be able to adjust to the empty expression Connor seemed to carry at most times nowadays.

That being said, he and Connor had gotten a lot closer during this time. Hank had realised his role, he was there to support Connor. He was there to make sure Connor didn't have to face this alone. He genuinely worried for what could have happened if Connor had tackled that case completely alone. It made him bitter, the thought that if Connor hadn't deviated, CyberLife would have simply scrapped him for these new flaws in his system.

"Alright, let's get a move on then." he yawned, swinging his keys around on his finger and walking out to the car.

Connor followed, as always, taking his spot in the passenger seat. Hank had decided that the thing he missed most was Connor's smile. When Connor smiled these days, it was a rarity, and it was always in his best moments. Hank would go out of his way to make those moments if it meant Connor could be happy, even for a few minutes. That was his role.

However, when those moments were a little hard to come by, he had another trick up his sleeve.

"Ay. Connor."

"Yes Lieutenant?"

"What do you call a frozen dog?"

"I am not sure. What do you call a frozen dog?"

"A  _pupsicle._ "

Hank watched Connor's face with a sly grin. There was a brief pause of confusion, followed by Connor's eyes widening in realisation as he burst into laughter. Dog jokes. It was always dog jokes that did the trick, and Hank had a million of them.

"Clever wordplay!"

"Hell yeah it is."

"Lieutenant, I've made an observation." Connor commented, his small smile still retained. 

"Oh yeah?"

"You seem to have developed an array of what is commonly classified at  _Dad jokes._ "

"Psh, Dad jokes?! My jokes are great!"

"And I agree! But they are Dad jokes."

"Everyone's a critic." Hank muttered, pulling into the police station.

"I like the thematic mention of dogs in your humour."

"Oh yeah? Threw that one in there for you."

"Well I appreciate it greatly!"

Connor stepped out of the car, waiting for Hank to join him before proceeding indoors. Work had been slow lately. Captain Fowler had been stalling on assigning them any cases, worried for Connor's ability to perform under such similar circumstances to the ones that had traumatised him. While Connor appreciated the sentiment, he was beginning to get antsy. He was built for work, and when there was no work, he didn't quite know what to do with himself.

"You know any jokes Connor?"

"I was programmed with a database of jokes for alleviating tension in stressful situations." Connor responded pragmatically, sitting at his desk and booting up his terminal.

"Really? Shoot."

Connor's LED flickered lightly as he searched his head for a joke that would appeal most to Hank.

"What do you get when you mix English class with alcohol?"

"No clue."

"Tequila Mockingbird."

Hank groaned, snickering lightly and setting his coffee down.

"Fuck, Connor, that was absolutely terrible, I love it."

"I will take your mixed feelings as a compliment."

"Absolutely a compliment."

Connor scrolled through his terminal. Old case after old case, work he had completed ages ago. He had long deleted the file of the noise complaint from his terminal alone, though it was still hosted on Captain Fowler's. Connor knew it did nothing to erase the past, but he didn't appreciate the reminder of the events every time he tried to work. He sighed as his thoughts once again dragged him back to that night, as they always seemed to. 

"Fuck."

Connor perked to attention, glancing at Hank and raising an eyebrow.

"We've got a new case."

"A new case?" Connor parroted, filled suddenly with newfound interest.

"Yeah, read up."

Connor quickly scanned through the files, soon locating the file in question. A man was reported to be brewing red ice in his basement and distributing it illegally. It was also reported that several addicts were squatting in his house, classified as an illegal gathering. All of these people would be guilty of drug-related offences. Connor couldn't help but be eager, he was going to be on a case again, back in his element.

_Normalcy._

"When should we leave?"

"Whenever you feel like it."

"I would like to leave now."

"Fuck, Connor, we just settled in."

"I would like to leave now."

"Fine, fine, lemme finish my coffee.  _Jeffrey!_ " Hank shouted, garnering the attention of the entire office, including Captain Fowler, who stared at him through the window with a less than amused expression. "We're heading out!"

Connor watched as Captain Fowler massaged the bridge of his nose, fighting back the daily headache that was Hank's attitude. Connor quite liked Hank's charms, personally. However, he had been designed to integrate.

Hank situated his gun in his holster, standing up and tossing his empty coffee cup in the trash.

"Alright, let's get a fuckin' move on."

Connor nodded quickly, standing and following closely behind Hank as they exited the building. He always followed a few centimetres closer to Hank than he did previously, he supposed his sense of not wanting to be alone went deeper into his core than he had anticipated. A lot of things had gone deeper than he expected. So many tiny things in his life had changed, things he never would have expected to be affected by what happened. 

Things like growing anxious when he heard footsteps, growing anxious when he saw clutter or messes, anything that brought his mind back to that room made him feel unsteady. He had noticed it especially the other night whilst tidying the house. He had been in Hank's room, hanging up Hank's clothes and making the bed, when he had heard the bathroom door close.

The simple noise of the door closing was enough to send a spike of panic up his spine, which had frustrated him to no end. He had stopped cleaning at that, opting to stay on the couch while he tried to process the flurry of emotions that was dealing with such ridiculous mental triggers. He was frustrated, he was upset, and he was  _tired_ , he was angry at himself for being so easily put off.

"Connor? You in there?"

"Sorry Lieutenant." Connor stated quickly, snapping back to reality.

"You get distracted for a second there?"

"I suppose so." Connor replied distantly.

He buckled himself into the car, staring down at his feet as he processed his thoughts.

"You got something on your mind?" Hank inquired, pulling out of the parking lot.

"I'm mildly frustrated."

"What? I thought you were excited to be on a case again."

"It's not about the case. I am frustrated with myself."

"What's wrong?"

"Am I recovering too slowly?" Connor inquired, glancing blankly up at the ceiling. 

"Of course not, that's fucking ridiculous, why would you think that?"

"I was designed to be an efficient tool. I should not be experiencing malfunctions at the slightest provocations as I have been recently."

"Okay, first of all, don't ever fuckin' call yourself a tool again, you're not a tool." Hank instructed. "And secondly, hell, Connor, that could last forever. There's no fucking timer on how fast you gotta recover. There's things that might stick with you for life."

"That's...disheartening."

"Damn right it is, but that's life. You're still Connor. I'm still gonna be patient with you, even if I gotta be patient for the next forty fuckin' years."

"Last night I encountered a strange experience." Connor mumbled.

"Strange how?"

"You closed a door in the hallway and I entered an odd state of panic."

"From the door?"

"From the sound of the door shutting." Connor clarified, thumbing his coin gently in his pocket. "It brought back...memories."

Connor found himself playing with his coin often when he started recounting events. It helped him stay distracted. It helped him stay  _detached._ Like he was telling the story of somebody else.

"It's difficult to navigate life avoiding such common occurrences as closing doors."

"Yeah, that's a tricky one." muttered Hank, deep in thought. "Maybe we oughta get some of those fancy robot doors that open when you put your hand on 'em."

"It's more than that." Connor continued, taking his coin from his pocket and flipping it over his fingers mindlessly. "Footsteps seem to be an issue as well."

"Well not much I can do about that one."

"Exactly."

Hank sighed, sparing a quick glance at Connor. He looked almost lifeless, staring ahead with no expression, flat and empty, idly toying with his coin. That was the Connor he dreaded seeing. He looked back ahead at the road, considering what to say next.

"Look, that shit's tricky, I've had my fair share of things like that." Hank began. "It's hard to get that shit out of your mind, and it's hard to relate it to anything else, right?"

"Right."

"So until you can get to a point where it doesn't send you straight into panicking, we'll do what we can around the house to keep things comfy for ya."

"We will?"

"Yeah. Some of that shit's easy. I can close doors quieter, no fuckin' problem."

"You're willing to extend extra effort?"

"For you to feel safe at home? Of course." Hank stated as if it were extremely obvious. "It's your place too, you should feel good at home."

"That's...a flattering gesture." Connor answered quietly, offering a small half-smile.

Hank couldn't help but smile back. He'd perfect Connor's new normal, just needed to take baby steps to get there.

And with that, they pulled into the driveway.

"Is this the correct house?" Connor inquired, stepping out of the car and closing the door.

"Looks like it. You ready to head in?"

"Ready Lieutenant."


	2. Chapter 2

"Wait."

Hank paused, raising an eyebrow at Connor, his hand hesitating in front of the door.

"Lieutenant, before we go inside, I would like you to know that I am extremely ready to be back in the field. I will not let you down." Connor stated assuredly.

"Yeah, well, don't strain yourself."

Connor sighed and nodded, readying his gun.

"Detroit City Police, open up!" he announced, pounding on the door. 

Nothing.

Connor sighed annoyedly and blinked, bringing up his mind palace. Four heat signatures, one in the basement of the home. The three others were likely the addicts living there. They were beginning to scatter because of the arrival of the cops. Connor followed their signatures carefully. One ran upstairs, one ran somewhere else on the floor, and one ran outside.

"They're scattering," he muttered hurriedly, bringing himself back to the moment. "Hank, one's in the backyard,  _go._ "

Hank nodded frantically, grabbing his gun and racing for the yard. That left Connor alone. He swallowed, steadying himself before kicking the door in with extreme force. It flew back and struck the wall loud crack, and Connor charged inside.  _One on the main floor, one upstairs._ He faltered slightly. He didn't want to go upstairs. Connor quickly shook himself clean of his doubt, opting to look for the first floor criminal instead. He walked down the hallway cautiously, peering through doors until he found one that was closed. And locked.

The bathroom.

Readying his leg once again, he booted the door open, only to be instantly tackled to the ground by the criminal. The man was screaming wildly, coming at Connor frantically with a knife. Connor was completely thrown off, his sensors suddenly flooded with panic, throwing off his reflexes.

"Ah-!"

The edge of the knife blade connected with his cheek. Frantically, he regained control, catching the man's arm and holding it away from him as the blue blood began to surface in his wound. He flipped the man onto his back, landing soundly on top of him and tossing the knife as far away as he could. It collided coldly with the shower wall. Connor was panting, staring down at the man, the man staring up at him with wide eyes. 

"H-Hell, you're fast." he muttered.

 _Not fast enough,_ Connor thought to himself.

Suddenly remembering the urgent nature of his mission, he quickly flipped the man onto his back, preparing to cuff him. He paused. Something about this position was sickening to him. He was on top of this man, the man who's head he had driven into the bathroom floor, the man who's position he had been shaking in mere weeks ago. He was barely processing his actions as he let out a sort of strangled cry of realisation, jumping to his feet. His pulse was racing. Swallowing, he quickly knelt down and handcuffed the offender before leaning against the counter, trying to catch his breath.

_And now he had to go upstairs._

He could feel tears resurfacing and quickly blinked them away, he had no time for this, he had a job to do. The job was the most important thing. He was built for the job. Desperately forcing his thoughts to the back of his head, he raced out of the bathroom, gunning for the stairs. He just had to finish this task. If he could finish this task, Hank would be proud of him. If he finished this task,  _maybe he could be normal again._ The sound of his dress shoes against the staircase pounded in his ears, his senses were being overloaded. All he could hear was his heartbeat, his breathing, and that  _pounding_. He was losing himself again.

Swallowing, he turned the sharp corner at the top of the staircase and slowed, peering into each room. Every door was open. He glanced into the bedroom, his stomach dropping as he even considered the possibility of entering. He skipped the bedroom. Connor walked to the end of the hall, furrowing his brow as no obvious hiding places came to mind. 

"Fight me you plastic piece of shit!"

Connor's thoughts were instantly thrown out of focus as a metal bat connected with the back of his head, sending his entire form crashing to the ground. He struggled to his hands and knees, his vision completely greyed out by static. His heart practically stopped at the realization.  _He couldn't see._ He felt the bat connect again, this time with the back of his neck. Rushing in panic, he flipped over onto his back and took his best guess at where the bat might meet next. He felt overwhelming relief when the bat connected directly with his palm, Connor catching it and yanking it away from the offender. He kicked back frantically, struggling to his feet and reaching for his gun.

His vision sparked back into functionality, though it was barely usable, filled with static and noise. He blinked wearily in confusion, finally taking in the offender, a middle-aged woman. Hastily, he lunged forwards to grab at her, missing tragically and collapsing to the ground once again. His vision must have been more shot than he had anticipated. His own words echoed in his head as he connected with the floor.

_I will not let you down._

"Fuckin' android, thought you were supposed to be some kind of top cop, the fuck is CyberLife putting out these days, birdshit?"

The bat connected again with his head. Thirium leaked down his neck and pooled at the floor.

Connor felt dead inside. He couldn't do the one thing he was designed to do. He was so far gone in his own thoughts, so distracted by the past that he couldn't focus on the future. He was useless. Worthless. Scrap. Trembling, he forced himself onto his hands and knees coughing up thirium. He had to complete his mission. It was the only thing that could give him any sort of worth.

"You want another fuckin' round?!"

Mustering all the functionality he could, Connor stood, taking a swing that connected soundly with the attacker's face. She toppled over, not having expected the attack, and Connor dropped to his knees next to her exhaustedly. Without a word, he grabbed her wrists, cuffing her before collapsing against the wall in a bleeding huff, panting.

"Connor!" Hank called from downstairs. 

Connor didn't even attempt to respond, breathing quietly in the silent house. If Hank called again, Connor didn't hear it. Hesitantly, he ran his self-diagnostic program. It came back less than favourable. He was losing thirium at an alarming rate, and his vocal, optical, and auditory systems were almost completely shot. He needed to get Hank's attention.

Slowly, he reached for the bat, feeling for the cold metal handle. He wrapped his fingers around it, raising it and connecting it soundly with the floor. Again. Again. He couldn't hear a thing, but he could feel the sharp vibrations shooting up his arm, the bat was connecting with the floor. Hank would hear that.

Then he felt hands on his shoulders.

He yelped, jerking suddenly and scrambling backwards. He was against the wall, there was nowhere to go. As fast as the hands had touched him they were gone, and Connor knew that whoever was in front of him had to be Hank. Of course it was Hank. Connor opened his mouth, attempting to speak, less than surprised when no noise left him. He couldn't speak, he couldn't hear, he couldn't see. It was like being in a void.

He felt Hank's arm under his, lifting him to his feet and carefully walking him down the staircase. Connor genuinely couldn't tell how many places he was bleeding from, but he could name a few. His head, his neck, his mouth, his nose, his ears, those came to mind fairly quickly. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck-"

Hank's voice came through in a haze of crackling static.

Connor still couldn't speak, he found, so instead, he squeezed Hank's shoulder tightly.

"Don't worry son, don't worry, you're alright, you're okay."

Hank sounded like he was trying to convince himself much more than he was trying to convince Connor.

Connor's vision reignited with a startling pop, though everything appeared extremely blurry and red. He staggered slightly in surprise, just barely managing to hold onto Hank as the Lieutenant desperately hoisted him up once again.

"Just gotta get you to the car, backup's on the way."

As the door opened, the searing blare of daylight hit Connor's vision, and everything became flushed with white. He yelped, almost collapsing again as Hank struggled to catch him.

"Close your eyes, close your eyes."

Connor did as he was instructed, and everything went black.

* * *

"Connor?"

Connor's eyes blinked open wearily, his vision taking a moment to come online as he stared ahead.

"You read me?"

Hank.

"Yes." Connor affirmed, touching his head lightly.

He winced at the sharp pain that followed.

"Hey, easy, easy, no touching."

"The offenders-"

"We caught all four, they're detained."

"W-We caught them?"

"We caught them. Are you okay?"

"We caught them..." Connor muttered, dazed.

" _Are you okay?"_

"I'm...dizzy."

"Yeah, I figured, I had to go pick up some of that blue blood shit, no idea how to put it in you though. Wanna help a guy out?"

"M'I bleeding?" Connor slurred.

"Not anymore, don't think so. But hell, your entire head was a fucking sprinkler, what happened back there?"

"Bat..." Connor mumbled in response, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead. 

The pain was excruciating.

"M'sorry..."

"Sorry? For what? Hell, Connor, you put your fuckin' life on the line back there."

"Mission...I said I wouldn't let you down..."

"And you fuckin' didn't, we solved the thing."

Connor didn't respond, his systems were running on such low energy that he probably couldn't have.

"Look, you just rest, okay? Rest. Tell me how to put this blue shit in you."

"Thirium-" Connor began, finding his pre-programmed manual taking over, though slurred and quiet. "Thirium can be replenished by ingesting it orally."

"You're gonna drink this shit?"

"Mm."

"You never cease to fuckin' shock me." Hank muttered, reluctantly handing Connor the bottle of thirium he had run out to purchase.

Connor uncapped the bottle, chugging it down in a matter of seconds, his systems whirring to life at the new input of energy. He felt rejuvenated.

"Lieutenant," he began, sitting up and rubbing his head. "I'd like to... _formally_ apologize for my behaviour during the mission."

"The fuck are you on about now?" Hank questioned, eyeing Connor skeptically as the android fixed his hair.

"I failed to efficiently apprehend the suspects due to personal distractions." Connor elaborated. "I was an unreliable partner and failed to perform my single designated function properly. I proved myself useless."

"Useless?"

"Yes. I was designed to apprehend suspects and I failed to do so, and for that I apologize."

"Connor, you caught both of the fuckers you were supposed to catch, what the hell are you talking about?"

"I should have been able to do it without taking damage."

"And I should be able to show up to work on time and sober, but fuck if I do. That doesn't make you useless."

Connor was quiet, dwelling in his own head again. He was ashamed. Really, really ashamed. He had sustained incredible damage on his mission, a mission he promised not to disappoint on, a mission he was excited for. He had been pathetic. He couldn't stay out of his own head long enough to focus. This was his fault. Again.

"I...I'm sorry." Connor mumbled again. "I'm sorry for getting distracted, Lieutenant."

Hank's expression softened, taking in Connor's overall look. He looked small. He looked scared. He looked lost. It was a hard sight to look at, really. 

"Hey, kid, don't be so hard on yourself." Hank sighed, kneeling down in front of Connor. "That was your first go back in the field. You can't just expect everything to go back to normal."

"I want it to."

"Well it's not gonna. Connor, if I've said it once I've said it a million times,  _be patient with yourself."_

"It's hard to be patient with myself whilst not seeing any improvements."

"Improvements'll come. I promise you they'll come. But until then, do me a favour kid, just go easy on yourself. You don't have to be perfect."

Those words triggered a response in him that Connor couldn't possibly have expected, he felt like the world had been lifted off his shoulders, it was the first time he had even  _considered_ the notion that he  _didn't have to be perfect._

"I...I don't?"

"Hell, Connor, of course not." Hank frowned.

"C-Can I rest?"

"Of course you can rest, anything else in your weird robot body I gotta fix?"

"The added thirium should effectively help aid in my repairs," Connor answered. "You needn't do anything else."

" _Needn't,_ " Hank scoffed quietly. "Why do you always gotta sound so fuckin' pretentious."

"I can't hear you over my resting." Connor muttered, lying back down and facing away from Hank.

"Asshole."

"Occasionally."

"Rest well."

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Connor had been quiet.

Hank had to admit, it was starting to worry him. When Connor was quiet, it usually meant he was thinking, and when Connor got too deep into thinking, it usually ended in tears. The difference this morning is that Connor hadn't even gotten out of bed yet.

"Connor?" Hank called, setting down the dishes he had been cleaning.

He was really trying to pull his weight with the chores lately. Connor was usually insistent on cleaning, tidying, and doing various other chores, claiming it was just more practical for him to do it. However, in recent weeks, Connor had been slower, clumsier, and awake for shorter periods of time, which meant that sometimes things just wouldn't get done. That meant that Hank had to contribute, which he really didn't mind much, as long as it meant that Connor would stay the hell down for once.

" _Connor?_ " he repeated, peering down the hall towards the bedroom.

Nothing.

Frowning in concern, he walked towards the bedroom, carefully opening the door.

"Oh shit- Connor?!"

Connor was sitting on the floor against the foot of the bed, knees drawn to his chest, arms around them. His eyes were wide and full of tears, fixed on the floor as his breaths came fast and sharp, his entire form shaking. Fuck.

"Connor, hey, hey." Hank mumbled, calming his voice as he hurried in front of Connor and knelt down, taking Connor's hands. "Breathe."

Connor's eyes shot up to meet Hank, and Hank felt a pang of sympathy run through him. Connor looked absolutely devastated.

"A-Apologies-" he stammered out, his breaths catching as he tried to stop crying. "I appear to be experiencing a panic attack as a-a side effect of psychological stress, i-it may last anywhere from-"

Hank tuned the words out, it always felt upsetting to hear Connor describe his situation in such a detached and clinical way.

"It's okay, it's okay." Hank coaxed. "You're safe. Breathe."

Connor hiccuped, breathing shakily as he focused his eyes back on Hank. Hank was here. He would be okay as long as Hank was here.

"I-I'm okay." Connor assured, his voice trembling.

Hank sat down beside Connor, putting his arm around the android's shoulder and pulling him closer. Connor buried his face against Hank's shoulder, his tears soaking into Hank's shirt. Sighing, Hank rubbed his back, staying quiet as Connor managed to catch his breath.

"What happened?"

"I-I had an... _i-internal struggle_ with changing clothes this morning." Connor explained.

"Yeah?"

"I was u-unable to convince myself to remove my clothing."

"You got a problem with changing clothes?"

A pang of guilt shot through Connor. He hadn't told Hank that.

"Y-Yes." He mumbled, choosing not to elaborate.

"You've been doing it just fine for weeks now."

"Your confusion is as prevalent as mine."

Hank continued rubbing Connor's back, the android sniffling quietly against his shoulder. He had seen Connor break down over and over and over again over these past few weeks, but this was the first panic attack he had witnessed, and it only proved to him once again just how human Connor really was.

"L-Lieutenant," Connor began, sitting up and wiping his eyes. "I-I'm sorry."

"Oh cut that shit, don't apologize, you have nothing to apologize for."

"I-I've proven to be a burden lately." Connor argued, wiping his eyes once again and resting his head back on Hank's shoulder.

_Warm._

"Connor, you never needed fuckin' anything from me for the entire time I've known you, I don't mind pulling some weight now that you need it."

Connor sighed, glancing to the side at the mirror. He was still in his pyjamas, looking absolutely pathetic on the floor. It was then that he realized that he couldn't have changed even if he wanted to, his suit was absolutely drenched in his blood. While he knew others wouldn't be able to see it, he certainly would, and it would be unnerving.

"Hank." he mumbled.

"What's up?"

"I can't wear my suit."

"Why not?"

"The blood."

"Well shit, guess you're wearing my clothes today." Hank stated simply.

"I- What?" Connor questioned, sitting up and looking quizzically at Hank. "Lieutenant, I do have other clothes."

"Nothing you can wear to work. You've got like four fuckin' outfits, Connor."

"That's...fair."

"Go. Pick somethin' you like."

Hank stood first, helping Connor up and looking over him. Androids did have one lucky feature, their eyes didn't get red when they cried. Hank imagined that was pretty handy. However, from Hank's view, it wasn't hard to tell that the android had been crying, it had become a familiar sight with familiar symptoms. His hair was mussed, his shirt slightly dishevelled, his chest rising and falling slightly more obviously than usual, his posture stiff. He looked tired. Connor looked tired a lot lately.

Connor approached Hank's closet, looking over the clothes inside.  _Lots of patterned dress shirts,_ Connor noted, skimming through them until he found one that caught his attention. It was admittedly garish, and looked like something out of 2008, but it was very fitting of Hank, a white dress shirt adorned with many tones of vertical stripes.

"You like that one? She's a beauty."

"It's...eye-catching." Connor muttered vaguely, setting it aside on the bed as he searched for a pair of pants that matched. 

"What are you, the fuckin' fashion police?"

"If that is included under my jurisdiction of an officer, then yes." Connor responded, setting the pants aside.

"I dress great."

"I believe that you  _think_ you dress great." Connor began hesitantly, removing his dress shoes from the closet.

Luckily, he had many pairs of those. 

"I do!"

"Sure, Lieutenant."

"Fuckin' asshole." Hank huffed, walking towards the door before pausing. "You want me to take the mirror outta here, Connor?"

Connor paused as well. 

"Th-That would be optimal."

"Alright, to the garage she goes."

"Thank you Lieutenant."

"Don't mention it."

* * *

"Wow. That is...an outfit." Gavin observed, sipping his coffee.

"I had to build my current outfit from clothing in Lieutenant Anderson's closet. My usual suit was bloodied in my last pursuit of a suspect." Connor explained, not looking up from his terminal.

"Well shit. Can you even wash robot clothes?"

"My  _robot clothes_ ," Connor began, adding emphasis to the words he found particularly ridiculous. "Are completely waterproof. They can be washed."

"Blood is hard to wash out of shit."

"It was  _my_ blood." Connor elaborated. "Thirium is easier to wash out of most fabrics than regular human blood is."

"Well that's fucking convenient huh."

"Extremely."

Connor hadn't had many civil conversations with Gavin in his time working here. If anything, this was probably the first. He was surprised, really, Gavin didn't seem like the type of person he could get along with.  _Then again,_ he thought,  _bromance shouldn't be underestimated._

"So what were you bleeding over?"

"I was struck repeatedly with a bat when my reflexes failed to prove deft enough." Connor recounted, trying to distance the failure to be deft from the fact that he had gotten distracted on the case.

 "Well shit. Guess it's pretty handy to have a cop that doesn't stay down."

Connor perked up slightly with newfound pride. That's right, he didn't stay down. A small smile passed over his features.

"Anyway, you're wearing that outfit too much like Hank," Gavin critiqued. "You gotta wear it like Connor."

"Elaborate." Connor requested quizzically. 

"I dunno, you look lazy. You look like you don't care."

"Ay, fuck off." Hank interjected from his desk, grumbling under his breath as he returned to his work.

Connor considered the matter for a moment. Carefully, he rolled up his sleeves, folding them into a proper cuff at his elbows. It was a small touch, but nice. Following up, he neatly tucked his shirt into his pants. Another nice touch.

"There we go, that's a Connor look."

"He's got a point, that's a Connor look." Hank added, sipping his coffee.

Connor couldn't help but be a little happy to hear that he seemed to have a sense of identity.

"What's got you so fuckin' smiley all the sudden?" Hank questioned, though he had to admit it was a welcome change to Connor's demeanour.

"Well, I believe I am having a decent morning." Connor explained, sipping from his thermos of hot chocolate. "As opposed to most of my other more recent mornings."

"Nice to see ya havin' a good day."

"Perhaps the addition of Detective Reed's more casual and friendly tone is the causing factor." Connor suggested, glancing at Gavin.

Gavin scoffed and glanced away, folding his arms and nursing his coffee. 

"Yeah, yeah, don't act like we're buddies or some shit." he muttered.

"Connor!" 

Fowler's voice cut through the room. Connor's smile dropped.

"My office!"

"I'm comin' with him!" Hank called back to Fowler, standing.

"No!" Fowler called back. "Connor alone!"

Connor stood, glancing between Gavin and Hank for a tense moment before proceeding quickly to Captain Fowler's office. He could feel his stress levels rising. Shutting the door behind him, he sat down, folding his hands in his lap.

"You caught the suspects on your mission last night." Fowler began, glancing up from his terminal.

Connor swallowed.

"Yes," he replied cautiously. "Lieutenant Anderson and I apprehended four offenders."

"You did a good job, Connor."

"Excuse me?"

"You did a good job." Fowler repeated. "For your first time back out in the field, that was a damn good job. You're a good cop."

"I am-?"

"In the face of danger you showed determination and skill.  _You're a good fuckin' cop._ "

"With all due respect, Captain," Connor spoke. "I could have done much better if I was at my best."

"But you  _weren't_ at your best and you kept going anyway." Fowler replied. "You showed me that you could do your job and you could do it damn well, negative circumstances or not. You did a good job Connor. I thought I should let you know. You should be proud."

Connor straightened his posture slightly.

"Thank you, Captain."

"Close the door on your way out."

Connor gave a curt nod, briskly exiting the office. He closed the door, taking a moment to fix his tie. Today had started out less than optimal. However, it seemed to be improving quickly. Cracking a small smile, he proceeded back to his desk and sat down.

"He give you hell?" Hank inquired, tossing his empty coffee cup in the trash.

"I was praised." Connor corrected, admittedly boasting slightly.

"Atta boy. You earned it."

"No other fuckin' cop in here would take a bat to the head and walk out with four suspects cuffed." Gavin added thoughtfully.

Connor took a breath. Normal. This was the normal he wanted. Hank as a father figure, sitting across from him, working away. Gavin as a friend, at his side, talking casually. Calm. Casual. Careless. No thoughts of what had happened in the past. If he could keep this up forever, he would give anything to. 

Maybe he could adapt after all.


	4. Chapter 4

Connor had been acting strangely.

Hank had first noticed when he had woken up that morning. Connor was already out of bed, and nowhere in sight. 

"Connor?" he called, getting out of bed.

Curiously, he walked down the hall, peering into the kitchen. Connor was doing the dishes, a heavy tension in his shoulders.

"Connor?"

"Hank!" Connor exclaimed, perking up and looking at the lieutenant over his shoulder. "Good morning!"

Something about this entire image had Hank concerned. Connor's smile was clearly fake. His happiness was  _clearly fake._  

"I've already made your breakfast and coffee, I thought I would get some of the leftover housework done and then we would go to work." he rambled, setting Hank's plate on the table. 

Hank noticed the tremble in his hands.

"Connor, the fuck is all this?" he muttered, rubbing his head.

"Bacon, eggs, and toast, as well as a small bowl of mixed fruits."

"That's not what I fuckin' meant." Hank sighed tiredly. "Why are you acting like a fuckin' lunatic?"

Connor's LED flickered lightly. Hank hadn't even noticed it was yellow.

"I'm acting perfectly fine Lieutenant."

"No,  _you're not._ " Hank insisted, taking the plate that Connor had resumed cleaning from his hands and setting it aside. 

"I am."

Then the words sunk in. He was acting perfectly fine. _He was acting like nothing had happened_. 

"Hell, Connor." Hank sighed, running his fingers through his hair in exasperation. "Don't do this."

"Do what, Lieutenant?"

His LED flickered.

"Don't pretend to be okay."

He noticed as Connor faltered slightly, pausing and carefully setting his dishes down. His smile had dropped.

"Yesterday," Connor started, not meeting Hank's eyes. "Yesterday was good."

"Yeah. Yesterday was nice."

"I wanted today to be like yesterday. I was okay yesterday."

Hank frowned slightly, sitting at the table and folding his arms. 

"Yesterday was the way it was because it was  _natural_." he stated, picking up his fork. "You can't force yourself to get better."

"Why not?" Connor asked quietly, seemingly asking the question more in general than directed at Hank.

Yesterday had been a breath of fresh air. Captain Fowler's praise, Gavin's friendly presence, his good mood, yesterday had been something he needed. He needed more good days. He needed more breaths of fresh air. He needed it desperately.

"Connor." Hank spoke, interrupting Connor's train of thought.

"Ah- Yes, Lieutenant?"

"That's damn good bacon."

Connor perked up, a streak of pride running through him.

"Thank you Lieutenant."

Hank continued eating, Connor quietly sitting across from him. Hank was well aware that the tone he usually took with Connor wasn't very kind, that's who he was, he was brash. That being said, he was also well aware that when he was nice to Connor, Connor smiled, and if Connor needed that to feel okay, Hank was more than willing to provide. 

"I'm...sorry for my strange behaviour." Connor began after a moment's pause.

"Don't worry about it kid." Hank sighed, leaning back in his chair. "But can I give you some advice?"

"Yes."

"Not every day is gonna be a good day." Hank started, sipping his coffee. "Some days are gonna be shit. Some days you're gonna wish you were dead. That's just the fuckin' truth."

"I've noticed."

"One good day doesn't mean you're better. Don't force yourself to feel better just because you think you should feel better. If you feel like shit, you feel like shit. You can't just will that away."

"...Understood, Lieutenant."

"Bring it in."

"Bring what in?"

Hank rolled his eyes, holding his arms out expectantly. Taking the hint, Connor stood, walking briskly around to Hank's side of the table and hugging him tightly, almost desperately.

"Atta boy."

Connor closed his eyes tightly, clinging to Hank like he was a lifeline. In honesty, he was. Connor would have self destructed ages ago if it wasn't for Hank. And to an extent, he felt guilty about that. Hank couldn't live normally anymore, not with Connor going through what he was going through. He was dragging Hank down with him, and that thought haunted him regularly. All that considered, he  _needed_ Hank, as bad as he felt about it.

"Love you, kid."

Connor was quiet, letting those words sink in as his grip loosened in surprise. Nobody had ever said that to him before.

"I...you do?"

"Don't make it fuckin' weird, go get dressed."

"You love me?"

"Connor."

"That's so nice of you-"

"God you're fuckin' awkward."

"Thank you Lieutenant-"

"Only person in the world that says  _thank you_ when they hear  _I love you_ -"

"Are we family?" Connor inquired quickly, standing upright and with his hands on Hank's shoulders.

"Why are you like this."

"I consider you my family Lieutenant."

"It's like talking to a brick wall here."

"Do you consider me family?"

"If I say yes will you go get fuckin' dressed?"

"Absolutely."

"Yes."

And just like that, Connor's arms were back around him again.

"You fuckin' said you'd go get dressed!" Hank scowled.

"In a moment."

"Fuckin' androids."

* * *

"Hank Anderson, here before noon? It's like I'm seeing a fuckin' unicorn."

"Up yours."

"Hello Detective Reed." Connor chimed in, glancing up from his terminal.

"Mornin'."

Connor paused, his eyes catching on the permanent black marker in Gavin's hand. He flinched slightly, his eyes flicking up to meet Gavin's before snapping back to his terminal.

"Wh- Oh, hey, no, no, don't worry." Gavin began hurriedly. "I was labelling some shit, I'll go put it away."

Connor cursed himself internally. The little things were getting to him again. That same sense of frustration was creeping in on him again.  _Get over it,_ he instructed himself. He paused, taking a deep breath and glancing up at Hank. Hank was working away at his terminal, barely paying attention to Connor and Gavin.  _Don't force yourself to feel better_ , he repeated in his head.  _You can't just will that away._

"There we go, gone."

"Appreciated, Detective Reed."

"Y'know that you can just call me Gavin, right?"

Connor blinked rapidly, his LED flickering as he registered the change. 

"Understood, Gavin."

"Nice."

Connor scrolled through his terminal, nothing particularly new or exciting was there for him today, most cases these days were human protesters harassing androids. Now that androids were recognised as people, these cases were being treated seriously. Connor's thoughts slipped for a moment, falling to the idea that if he had been assaulted a mere year earlier, he would have been disregarded completely and very likely scrapped for his newfound errors. 

"Connor! Reed! Office!"

Connor's eyes shot up instantly to meet Hank's, the two sharing a quizzical look as Connor stood.

"The hell?" Gavin muttered, setting his coffee down on Connor's desk as he proceeded to Fowler's office.

"I'll be here when you get back." Hank assured skeptically, Connor giving him a curt nod before proceeding to Fowler's office.

He took a seat, glancing over at Gavin before refocusing his eyes on Captain Fowler.

"You two've been assigned a case," Fowler started. "Murder investigation."

"Wh- Connor and I?"

" _Me and Connor._ " Connor corrected curtly. 

" _Yes_ , you and Connor."

"What about Hank?"

"Hank's overloaded." Fowler explained firmly. "He's been taking on cases alone since the _incident_."

Connor swallowed. Hank had been doing extra cases for him. He hadn't known that.

"That means you two need to take this case." Fowler continued, typing. "Get your asses down to the address."

"Captain Fowler," Connor began, finding his mouth suddenly dry. "I don't believe I should be going on cases without Lieutenant Anderson-"

"Neither do I, but this is how things have to work for now. Get going."

"Captain-"

"Connor." Captain Fowler interrupted, giving the android an icy stare. "I know this is a bad idea.  _There's nothing I can do about it. Go._ "

Connor was silent for a moment before standing, giving a curt nod, and exiting the room. He could feel his hands trembling, he didn't want to go alone with Gavin, he wanted to go with Hank. He trusted Hank. He was safe with Hank, he needed Hank, he-

"Woah, woah, hey, slow down, we'll figure this out." Gavin assured quickly, catching up to Connor, who didn't bother to look at him. "We'll work great together, don't even worry about it. It's totally fine."

"I appreciate the reassurance," Connor began, stopping. "But I am very accustomed to working with  _Lieutenant Anderson._ "

"Yeah, I get that, that's totally cool and all, but this is still gonna work, you'll see. I'll be super fuckin' careful and everything, I'll be a great partner. You'll see."

Connor eyed Gavin skeptically, he still felt uneasy about this entire scenario. Gavin was a friend now, maybe, but he wasn't Hank. He wasn't  _close_. He wasn't reliable.

"C'mon. It'll be totally fine."

"...I am not given a choice in the matter, so I'm going to say yes regardless of your reasoning."

"Awesome, okay, cool. Let's get going, huh?"

"Woah woah woah, hold on, the hell's going on?" Hank questioned, standing up.

"I have been assigned a mission with Detective Reed."

"What? Why aren't you going with me?" 

"You are  _overloaded_." Connor stated pointedly.

Hank faltered slightly.

"So you know about that now huh?"

"You do not have to take on extra work for my wellbeing."

"Don't worry about it."

"Lieutenant." Connor stated. "I can work. I may not be at my best, but I am quite capable."

"Look, we'll talk about it at home, and after I fuckin' talk to Fowler." Hank insisted, storming past Connor and into Fowler's office.

Connor glanced down, already starting to feel sick again. He really, truly did not want this case.

"...Alright, well," Gavin started cautiously. "I'm gonna grab a coffee, and then we can go-?"

"Alright." Connor answered dryly. 

"You okay?"

"Troubled."

"You wanna like, I dunno, talk or some shit?"

"No."

"Alright, well, I'm gonna run to grab my coffee then-"

"I will meet you by your car."

"Cool, cool."

Connor walked past Gavin briskly, wanting nothing more than to get this mission over with. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He had to get through this. He had to be okay, because if he wasn't, it would mean even more work for Hank, even more pressure. He had to work through this. 

_Don't force yourself to feel better._

He flinched at the words in his head again. He couldn't force himself to be okay. It had to be  _natural._

"Natural." he mumbled under his breath, stopping at Gavin's car. "Let it be natural."

"You ready to go?"

"Affirmative.


	5. Chapter 5

"Alright, this is the place." Gavin muttered, looking at the house ahead of them.

It was absolutely disgusting. Connor tensed slightly and squinted, another small thing to set him off, a disgusting and disorderly house. Something about that environment made him feel unsafe, it offset him. It wasn't a coincidence that Hank's house had been spotless since Connor had been well enough to start cleaning it again. 

"You ready?" Gavin inquired, interrupting his train of thought.

"I am." Connor confirmed, staring straight forward at the house.

He swallowed, stepping out of the car. The house was restricted with caution tape, a few reporters crowding the scene as Gavin weaved through them, dodging questions. Connor paused, examining the crowd and scanning a few faces. He found himself checking criminal records much more frequently lately. He also found himself avoiding people with physical criminal offences under their belts.

"Everybody step back!"

Connor was startled out of his mind palace by Gavin's voice cutting through the noise.

"Let my partner through! No touching!"

All eyes turned to Connor. He flinched slightly at the sudden attention, proceeding quickly through the crowd, which parted for him without question. As good as he understood Gavin's intentions were, the unwanted eyes on him were making his stress levels rise. He tucked his hands into his pockets, thumbing his coin lightly as he focused ahead of him and continued walking. He felt exposed. 

After what was likely only a few seconds but felt like ages, Connor caught up with Gavin, walking briskly by his side up to the front door of the house. Gavin looked proud of his protective actions, but Connor chose to keep his head down, confusing the detective slightly.

"You good man?"

"I'm fine. We should proceed to the crime scene."

Gavin gave a curt nod, furrowing his eyebrow slightly, deep in thought. Connor stayed next to him, entering the dishevelled house and looking around. Connor squinted at the mess, trash and furniture scattered carelessly. He noticed the mess before he noticed the body. Finally, his eyes locked on the corpse, his mind trying its best to block out the filth around him to maximise efficiency. 

The victim was a 42 year old male, 5'11, with two stab wounds to the neck. Connor's eyes flickered around the room, taking in clue after clue as he began to piece the scene together in his head.

"Hey, it's fine, you can chill, I'll figure this one out."

Connor blinked back into reality, eyeing Gavin in confusion. 

"I was built for figuring out crime scenes such as this one. You should let me perform my task."

"No, seriously, it's fine, don't strain yourself."

Connor squinted slightly.

"I am more than capable of investigating this crime scene,  _Detective Reed._ " Connor assured pointedly.

"Yeah, I mean, I bet you are, but I wouldn't want you like, I dunno, seeing something and freaking out. You should be resting and stuff, that's what Hank said."

"Well, yes, but-"

"So I should be doing the work."

Connor appreciated extra help nowadays, he appreciated care. What he didn't appreciate was being underestimated and babied. 

"I  _want_ to do the work." he insisted, stepping forwards towards the body.

Gavin abruptly placed his hand on Connor's chest.

"It's fine, seriously, you shouldn't be straining yourself, you-"

Gavin let out a yelp as Connor hurriedly smacked his hand away, staggering backwards a step, his breaths coming fast. He hadn't been expecting touch, he hadn't been expecting  _Gavin._

"Oh fuck- Connor, sorry-"

Connor quickly turned away, taking a moment to collect himself, closing his eyes and breathing deeply through his nose.

"I-It's  _fine._ " he mumbled, not wanting to give Gavin the satisfaction of knowing he really did need him to do the work now that his focus had been thrown off.

"You sure?"

"I'm fine!" Connor insisted suddenly, his stress levels spiking for a moment. "I-I'm fine."

Gavin was quiet, bustling around the crime scene, inspecting various clues and keeping mostly to himself. Connor, meanwhile, was growing increasingly frustrated with himself. One touch. It had been  _one unexpected touch,_ and he suddenly felt like his chest was caving in. He wanted to be able to prove himself, and he couldn't possibly prove himself if all it took to incapacitate him was  _one unexpected touch._

"Connor?"

"Yes?"

"I asked you a question."

"Apologies, can you please repeat it?"

"I asked if you had any idea what happened here." Gavin repeated, eyeing Connor curiously.

Connor's stress levels rose.

"I- Pardon, hold on-" Connor mumbled, his eyes desperately flickering over the crime scene as he tried to put things together. "The um- The attacker came from...the back door, they broke the window and entered through there. The victim came downstairs and was attacked with a-...a knife, he was pushed into the coffee table and stabbed twice in the throat."

Connor prayed that was correct.

"...Lines up." Gavin thought aloud, his eyes following the path of the crime scene. "Any idea who pulled the stunt though?"

He sounded like a terrible officer for saying so, but in honesty, Connor couldn't possibly care less right now. His stress levels rose.

"I would have to sample the blood on the broken window," he began, taking a few deep breaths as Gavin eyed him once again. "I'll do that in a moment."

"Alright, I'm gonna take a look upstairs." Gavin replied, nodding at Connor before proceeding up the staircase.

As soon as Connor was sure he was alone, he leaned against the wall, breathing deeply and shakily through his nose as his hands trembled at his sides. His stress levels were too high. His panic was too high. He knew that if he had a panic attack now, there was no way Gavin would let him stay and finish the investigation, and  _he had to finish the investigation._ The tremors in his hands grew stronger, his fingers coming up to tangle in his hair as he tried to control his breathing, finding himself losing control of his respiratory system. He couldn't focus.

He needed air. He needed to calm down.

He could feel tears rising to his eyes for reasons he couldn't even begin to guess, everything about emotions and being overwhelmed was foreign to him, even after all this time he never understood why he would cry. He wasn't sad, he was  _afraid_ , he was  _panicking._

"Connor?!"

_Fuck._

"I-I'm fine-" he croaked out quietly, his voice cracking as he sunk down to the floor, his back still to the wall and his knees to his chest.

He was shaking. He had to stop shaking.

"Hey, hey, woah." Gavin coaxed, hurrying over and dropping to his knees in front of Connor. "Shit, can I touch you?"

Connor shook his head frantically.

"Okay! Okay, no touching." Gavin assured, raising his hands. "What's going on?"

"Ps-Psychological stress induced panic attack-" Connor managed to stammer out, though he was trying to convince himself that that wasn't the case.

"Alright, okay, breathe."

 _If I could breathe I would be breathing_ , he thought, though he bit his tongue.

"You were right about the case, don't even worry about the case, you nailed it, we can sample the blood tomorrow and catch the guy." Gavin rambled reassuringly, keeping his hands tucked reliably in his pockets, further assurance that he wouldn't be touching Connor. "You nailed it, you did great, we can go."

He wanted to leave desperately.

Connor stood shakily, bracing himself against the wall for a moment before hurriedly walking out of the building, Gavin trailing behind him like a lost puppy as he passed the press, the group parting for him once again. He quickly got in the car, buckling himself in and staring up at the ceiling. He couldn't calm down. He was trying, he was trying desperately, but  _he couldn't calm down._

"Connor, fuck, are you gonna be okay?"

"I-I'm fine." Connor stated hurriedly.

His mind was racing as Gavin started the car, pulling away from the lot. He could feel his frustration and anxiety building, he wasn't okay, not even slightly, he felt worse than ever. He felt deeply sick. He felt dirty, he felt like the house had infected him, he felt like his sensors were burning. They drove in silence for a few minutes, Gavin unsure of what to say, Connor trying to even his breathing. His stress levels rose.

"Gavin." Connor interjected suddenly, causing Gavin to jump slightly.

"Yeah-?"

"There is somewhere I need you to drop me off."


	6. Chapter 6

Hank had been on edge since this morning. After a fairly heated discussion with Fowler, he had returned to his desk, trying to get through some of his work before Gavin and Connor returned. However, it was getting late now, and Hank was preparing to go home alone. He hoped that Gavin and Connor were getting a lot done, and that's why they weren't back yet, but a nagging sensation in the back of his head told him things couldn't possibly be that convenient.

Hank's eyes snapped towards the office doors as they opened, Gavin walking through alone.

"Where's Connor?" Hank inquired as he passed, trying to mask the genuine concern in his voice.

"He had me drop him off at some park on the way back, I dunno." Gavin shrugged, plopping down in his desk chair. "Told me he'd walk home later."

That didn't sit right with Hank. Connor liked to walk through parks, Hank knew that much, Connor loved plants, Connor loved life, he liked being outside. But he didn't like being alone, not anymore, and certainly not alone in public in the middle of the night.

"I'm leaving." Hank stated abruptly, getting up from his desk and pacing towards the door.

"We're not off for another ten minutes."

"Fuck off." Hank replied curtly as he exited the building, gunning for his car.

Then, his phone rang.

"Hank Anderson." Hank muttered in introduction as he answered, fumbling for his car keys in his pockets.

"Lieutenant. I-It's Connor."

"Fuck, kid, where are you? I'm coming to pick you up."

"That won't be necessary."

Something in Connor's voice was filling Hank with a sick sense of dread. It was shaky. It was uncertain. It was stressed.

"I've come to a conclusion about recent events and my personal errors."

"Yeah?" Hank pursued breathlessly, hurrying to start his car.

"I will not be returning home tonight."

"The fuck you won't!" Hank snapped, pulling out of the parking lot.

He knew where Connor was. There was only one place he would go to do something like this.

"My apologies Lieutenant. I appreciate your attempts to repair things."

"Shut up!" Hank seethed, panic bubbling inside him as he sped up, not caring about any road laws for the time being.

He had to get to Connor.

"Connor, don't you dare fucking kill yourself, don't you  _dare_ , I never should have let you fucking go with  _Gavin_ -"

Hank's pulse was racing, he knew Gavin would fuck up, he knew Gavin would spike Connor's stress levels. What was it Connor had told him? Androids self destruct at 100% stress? What the fuck had Gavin done to get his stress levels that high? He offered the detective the benefit of the doubt, maybe it hadn't been Gavin, maybe something else had happened, maybe this had just been building. Regardless, it wasn't important, he had to get to Connor.

"I am going to hang up now. Goodbye, Lieutenant."

"Connor!"

The line went dead. 

Hank practically crashed the car as he blasted into the parking lot, veering into a space and throwing himself out of the car. The bench, he had to get to the bench, Connor would be at the bench. He remembered the last time he had been there, he remembered putting a gun to Connor's head, questioning the android's existence, questioning his humanity. 

"Connor!" he called, not even bothering to lock the car as he took off down the path. 

The park was dead, only his voice and panting cutting through the silence of the empty lot.  _Except it isn't empty_ , he told himself.  _Connor's here._ it was then that he spotted the android, staring over the fence, blankly forward, his hand on his gun.

"Connor, oh fuck, Connor..." Hank panted, dropping to his knees in exhaustion a few feet behind the android. "Fuck..."

Connor didn't turn around, though Hank could see the slight tremble in his hands as his grip tightened around his gun. Hank didn't spare another moment, he jumped to his feet, ripping Connor's gun from its holster and pitching it across the water. Connor startled slightly in shock, quickly turning to Hank. Hank's heart practically shattered at the look of Connor. His eyes were wide and full of tears that had long since began pouring down his face, his hands trembling, his shoulders hunched as if he was trying to close in on himself, he looked small, he looked  _terrified._

"Connor, fuck, don't do this to me." Hank mumbled, quickly pulling Connor in for a hug.

He felt the android flinch before calming, the same tremble still coursing through him as he blinked back more tears, his arms slowly wrapping around Hank to hug him back. Hank felt the android's breathing hitch, his grip tightening as he began to cry once again, going limp in Hank's arms. Connor was  _exhausted,_ completely mentally spent. 

"It's okay," Hank murmured quietly, though he could feel tears begin jumping to his own eyes as well. "I-It's okay kid."

"I-I'm sorry, I'm  _sorry_ -"

" _It's okay._ " Hank repeated quietly, though he tightened his grip on Connor. "You're okay."

"I-I panicked, I d-didn't know what to do, I-I felt like I  _had_ to-"

"I know, I know, 's not your fault." Hank coaxed, rubbing Connor's back.

Connor returned to crying, desperate to get all of his emotions out of him, desperate for  _release._ Hank carefully lowered him onto his knees, unable to hold him up any longer. He pulled Connor in tighter, letting the android cry. Sometimes he could entirely forget that Connor really wasn't human. He felt human. He seemed human. He was human enough in Hank's mind to break Hank's heart every time he saw him like this. Hank could feel his own hands shaking, his body coming down from the adrenaline of rushing after Connor, he genuinely thought Connor was going to die. He thought he was going to arrive at the park and find Connor dead on the ground.

"Y-You scared me there, kid."

"I'm sorry-" Connor hiccuped, tightening his group. "I-I'm sorry Hank."

"Hey, hey, it's okay, i-it's okay. You just scared me, that's all."

Connor remained quiet, his crying slowly beginning to subside, replaced by occasional quiet sniffling and hiccuping. Hank wondered for a moment why CyberLife would make crying so realistic. The park was quiet, the only noises in the air being the water below them and Connor's soft noises next to his ear.

"Connor, what happened?" Hank asked gently, staring up at the sky in thought as he held on to the android.

"I-I don't know," Connor started. "Th-The reporters, the reporters were staring at me and the house was a mess a-and then Gavin touched me and- a-and I don't  _know-_ "

"That's okay, that's okay." Hank coaxed, rubbing Connor's back once again. 

Connor's mind was whirring, his systems were doing everything they could to protest this moment of vulnerability, _this wasn't important to his work_ , those words clung with him constantly. Even since deviating, it had been hard to move past the thought that everything had to relate to his work to be important. His mind was telling him to get away from Hank, to get back to work, to be efficient, to be  _perfect._ But he didn't  _want_ to.

"Connor," Hank started, Connor noticing the slight catch in his voice. "You're way more fuckin' important than you know, o-okay? Don't fuckin' make me lose you, th-thing are gonna get better, don't make me lose you, don't make me lose another fuckin' son."

 _Another son_.

"I-I won't," Connor mumbled quietly, his voice barely above a whisper as he let Hank's desperate plea set in. "I won't, Lieutenant."

"W-We're gonna go home, okay? We're gonna go home, a-and tomorrow we're gonna stay home from work, we're just gonna drink and watch T.V. or some shit, o-okay? Just you and me."

Connor could easily sense the intention in Hank's words, Hank was scared. Hank wanted to give Connor something to look forward to about tomorrow. Hank wanted to give Connor a reason to live, if only for a day longer. Hank was afraid of losing him.

Connor took a shaky breath, pulling back from Hank and fixing his hair carefully. He wiped the tears from his face, looking Hank straight in the eyes as he tried to process his next move. Hank looked desperate. Hank looked tired.

"I-I would like that." Connor stated simply. 

"You don't e-ever gotta kill yourself, okay? There's always tomorrow, there's always gonna be a tomorrow, th-there's always gonna be another good day."

_Don't force yourself to feel better._

Connor swallowed, standing on shaky legs and carefully helping Hank to his feet. 

"Tomorrow." he parroted under his breath, looking back up at Hank.

_Normalcy. Difference._

Connor's LED flickered lightly.

"If we leave now," Connor began, wiping his eyes once again. "We can arrive at the Chicken Feed before nightly closing. I believe particularly favoured foods would be beneficial to you right now. Possibly myself as well. Or if you'd prefer, we can arrange to acquire such food tomorrow. Or Thursday."

Hank paused. He knew what Connor was doing. He was showing Hank he had plans. Plans for tomorrow, plans for the day after, plans for the future. Wordlessly, he hugged Connor again.

"D-Different isn't always easy, huh Lieutenant."

"Never, kid."

"Should we go?"

"Yeah. You need some rest."

"...Lieutenant?"

"Yeah?"

"I-I love you."

"Thanks kid."

Connor couldn't help but crack a small smile at that. 

"I thought you said I was the only person in the world who-"

"Be gracious, kid."

_Normalcy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, the series Bleeding Edge is now over. I'm so glad that so many people were able to relate to my Connor and take comfort in this story, and I thank you so much for reading. I plan to post more in the future, so please read my other stories if you have the time!


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